Pieces of Me
by mutemockingjay
Summary: AU. They told her she was going to die. But they were wrong. Toph Bei Fong was invincible. Nothing could touch her-especially not the mysterious boy that actually seemed to care. Tokka.
1. Prologue

**A/N: I've never written a chaptered story for this fandom before, so I'm kind of interested to see where this goes. Updates depend on my college schedule (I should be working on a thesis right now). Also, trigger warning for eating disorders. I am not endorsing anorexia in any way, shape, or form. I'm actually in recovery right now, but I thought it'd be interesting to explore the topic from Toph's POV. **

* * *

**Intake Form: Republic City Home for Troubled Youth**

**Name: **Toph Bei Fong

**Age: **17 years

**Height: **4'11"

**Weight: ** 82lbs

**Case notes: **Diagnosis anorexia nervosa. BMI stands at 16.6. Hospitalized on three separate occasions. Chronic. Insubordinate and unresponsive to traditional treatment.

* * *

You didn't do it on purpose, you say to anyone who will listen—read: no one. You're full of shit anyway. You absolutely, irrevocably meant to do it on purpose. And you'll keep doing it—they can't stop you. Nobody can stop you.

Not these doctors, with their cold, bony hands, poking and prodding you like a sow at market. Not the nurses, with their caustic voices and morbid warnings, telling you you're going to die.

Good, you say. You can only imagine what they scribble down on their notepads after that little revelation, as they ask question after question about your _body image_. They forget you don't even know what you look like.

Everything is touch. The protrusion of your ribs, the planes and sharp angles of your hips, every single knob of your spine. A mirror means nothing. Your hands are all the mirror you need.


	2. In the Beginning

"An idea that is not dangerous is unworthy of being called an idea at all."  
Oscar Wilde

* * *

Take 1:

"Good morning!" The voice was bright, cheery, and, in Toph's opinion, full of shit.

"No."

* * *

Take 2:

"It's time to get up, Toph."

Toph pulled the covers over her head to drown out the voices.

* * *

Take 3:

"Toph. If you don't get out of bed and to breakfast right now, you'll lose all privileges for the day."

"Fuck off."

* * *

Take 4:

Sheets and blankets pulled off the bed. Toph curled into a ball, shaking from head to toe. Christ, this couldn't be legal. Cruel and unusual punishment, for sure.

Her ears pricked with irritation as she heard it again. The same saccharine voice, the same footsteps. _Fat_ footsteps. Toph grinned. At least she didn't sound like that.

"Toph. Get up now and join us for breakfast, please."

Breakfast. Toph's head pounded a staccato beat. When was the last time she had breakfast? She couldn't remember. Whatever. She wasn't going to eat it. Fuck that.

"Nope," Toph replied, sitting up in bed and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Toph," the voice said, almost pleading, "Remember why you're here."

"I don't know why I'm here—what's your name again?"

"Katara," the voice said.

"Katara," Toph repeated. "Don't like it."

"You don't have to like it—wait, never mind, that is beside the point!"

Katara spoke shrilly. Toph imagined her standing on the tips of her toes, hands on her hips. Unable to actually see Katara, Toph wasn't sure if that was actually happening, but the thought amused her anyway.

She needed a nickname, Toph decided as she picked her toes. Her voice was sweet enough to give her diabetes. Sweet…sugar…annoying….

"I got it!" Toph shouted, leaping to her feet far too quickly. Her head spun and she swayed.

"Are you all right?" Cool hands tried to steady her, and Toph shrugged them off.

"I'm fine, Sugar Queen."

"If you say so—who are you calling Sugar Queen?"

"I am." Toph, puffed with pride, reached out for her cane. She heard Katara sigh.

"Fine. We'll deal with that later. But Toph, you have to remember—this is your last chance. You've been non-responsive to hospitalization. If you don't cooperate with us here, you'll be sent to Sozin's."

"Yeah, yeah, sure." Toph waved a hand dismissively, but she couldn't quite swallow the lump in her throat when Sozin's was mentioned. The Fire Nation asylum, where the crazies were locked up and left to rot.

Toph leaned on her cane. Her limbs felt weighted, and the earth span in small quakes beneath her feet.

"I don't belong in any crazy asylum," Toph said, clearing her throat.

She could practically see Katara's smug smile, and Toph wished that she could wipe it right off her face. It was awful tempting, but she didn't trust herself to let go of the cane.

"I'm sure you don't. But you still have to eat."

Toph gritted her teeth. She'd get out of bed. But they couldn't get her to eat whatever pig slop they were serving. Fuck them. She was goddamn _invincible_.

* * *

Breakfast was bacon, eggs, and a tall glass of milk set in front of her with a _clink_ against the plastic table. Toph's mouth watered at the smell of bacon. Goddamn, she used to love bacon, fried up so crisp—

_No. Stop. Think strong. _

Bacon was disgusting. That was it. Poison, going to rot her from the inside out. Filled with fucking fat, going straight to her thighs, her ass. Her palms began to sweat. By the time she was done here, she'd be the size of the giant badger mole she'd kept as a pet on her family's estate.

A rough shoulder brushed against Toph's, and she startled at the touch.

"Don't touch me, bitch," she snapped, trying not to inhale the bacon scent.

"Whoa, touchy, touchy." The voice was male, mocking. Toph gripped her fork with more vehemence than was necessary.

"Sokka, leave her alone. What are you doing here, anyway?" That was Katara, her stupid, sugary voice grinding on Toph's last nerve.

"Thought I'd stop by on my way to work, steal your bacon."

"You really have to stop doing that," Katara said.

"Stop doing what? Dropping by, or stealing your bacon?"

"Both."

There was a crunching sound directly in Toph's eardrum. Whoever the stranger was, he was chewing. Loudly, and far too close to her personal bubble. The smell of food was intoxicating. Toph's head spun.

"Aw, sis, you don't mind it one bit."

Sis? Toph choked on laughter. "Can't believe you two are actually related," she muttered under her breath.

Sokka laughed. "Nobody can," he said. She could hear him chewing more, likely with his mouth open. She used to do the same thing, to drive her parents crazy.

Toph felt her plate being pushed towards her. "Come on, Toph," Katara said. "You've got to eat."

Toph picked up her fork, laid precisely at two 'o'clock. The first bite made it past her lips—barely. Everything tasted all wrong. Lukewarm and slimy and enough to leave her stomach lurching. Her hand shook so badly the fork fell right from between her fingers. She hung her head.

_I can't do this. _

"You won't be leaving till you've cleared your plate, Toph."

Toph glowered at Katara. Though she would never be one to admit it, she was terrified.


End file.
